


Two Sheets to the Wind

by Decim



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decim/pseuds/Decim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shot, written on a whim. After talking to his father, Dorian and the Inquisitor share a drunken night in Redcliffe tavern where things get a little heated.</p><p>This is really based on my story Broken Song, further elaborating on chapter 30 in which Dorian and the Inquisitor make a pact to get married if neither of them is in ten years time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Sheets to the Wind

Remy hardly registered the room that they entered, the fact that they were probably making enough noise to wake up all the other guests in the tavern, or that she had left her staff in the bar downstairs. What she did become more and more aware of were Dorian’s hands on her body, his arm around her waist, and his breath on her neck as the door closed behind them and they stumbled across the room, laughing about something she didn’t even remember.

“Should we amend the time on our deal?” he asked her, his mouth moving against her ear. “Our wedding sounds like it would be the best party ever.”

“How could it not be?” she chuckled, tracing her fingers over the one shoulder he kept exposed.

“Quite right.” He pulled back rather suddenly. “You can dance, right?” For some reason, it seemed to be extremely important that she could.

“I don’t do your fancy ballroom dances,” she said, slurring her words a bit. “But I’m very good at freestyle.”

“Are you now?”

He grabbed her even firmer around her waist with one hand and seized hers with the other. His leg gently pressed against her and she followed the direction, stepping back, and they moved through the room. Even with how drunk he was there was a confident gusto to his steps and he wavered only slightly. He hummed a song in her ear that fit their tempo and she vaguely recalled having heard before. The warm notes of his voice, the cheer the act of dancing brought her, and the overwhelming happiness of the bond they’d come to share, drove any other thoughts from her intoxicated mind. For a short moment there was nothing else in the world, only her and Dorian and their own little bubble in which they could hide from reality.

She wasn’t sure who lost their balance first, but somehow her leg got caught on something - be it his or something else entirely - and their moment was disrupted when they tumbled onto the bed.

“Ow,” he groaned. “Elbow.” She awkwardly adjusted their tangled limbs and pulled back slightly so she could look at him. Once she was no longer ramming him in the ribs his expression relaxed. He had his eyes closed and wore a wide, peaceful smile that was as different as it could be from the expression he’d had earlier in the day. His hands were firm on her back and pulled her closer against him, making the muscles in his trained, bronzed arms stand out so that she could see their shapes even in the dim light. His chest was firm underneath her, his face lit by the thin strip of blue moonlight that came in through a crack in the closed shutters. From an objective standpoint, she observed, it was quite impossible to call the mage anything short of gorgeous. She didn’t know if physical appearance was something that was being bred for in Tevinter next to magical prowess, or if the two were linked together in some way, but his family - jackasses though they were - had undeniably done well in both departments.

They’d spent so many nights in each other’s company by now, either simply sleeping next to each other or with her wrapped in his arms when he’d noticed her dreaming or otherwise distressed. It had never given her any feeling other than warm comfort and safety. Whether that was because she had guessed his preference early on, he simply wasn’t her type, or both, she couldn’t tell. But now, more liquored up than she had been in a long while, his arms pulling her towards him and making her pelvis press against his own, there was a familiar stirring in her abdomen that she hadn’t had the chance to satisfy for a very long time.

She lowered herself down, lingering above him for a moment. He didn’t open his eyes, nor did he make any attempt to move away or push her back. Her heart was thumping and a hot thrill was spreading from between her legs. His breath quickened ever so slightly, matching up with her own, and he parted his lips a fraction. There was no doubt about it. A line was about to be crossed and they both knew it. The question was who would take the step first.

His mouth met hers as she moved in, careful at first, though quickly growing more eager. She moaned as his hands ran up her sides and twined themselves in her hair, while she held his face in between hers, feeling the muscles in his jaw work under her fingers. He was a good kisser. Soft but intense, with just the slightest hint of aggression. Yet as they continued, his tongue moving in just the right way and his hands firmly stroking her body, the heat in her core slowly ebbed away rather than intensified.

It was not something that had ever happened to her before. Confused and wondering if it was because of the alcohol, she pushed deeper into the kiss with increased vigor and moved to rapidly undo the straps and buckles of his outfit. He lifted his torso off the mattress so she could pull the layers away, while meanwhile she felt his fingers deftly undoing the laces on her shirt and pushing the fabric down to her waist. They crashed back in between the pillows and she tangled her fingers in his groomed hair. It was slightly oily from whatever pomade he’d styled it with that day, making her retract and relocate to his chest instead.

They both gave one last effort, his hand reaching behind her neck and pulling her further in and her caressing his bared torso, but soon after they simultaneously broke away. She kept her eyes closed and listened to their shaking breath. Her body was still warm and his was radiating against it even warmer, but there was nothing of the hot flash to be found that had briefly surfaced.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“We both did it, my dear. No need to apologize.” She pulled back and opened her eyes. There was a distinct hint of sadness in his smile and he reached up to brush her hair back, letting his hand linger on the side of her face.

“This feels unfair,” she said softly. “We’d have so much fun together.”

“It does,” he agreed. “And we would.”

“I love you.”

“And I you, dear.”

“But I’m no man,” she said jokingly, for the first time in her life slightly wishing she was.

“And I am no Cullen.”

The words took her by surprise, as did the stab they sent through her chest. She stared into the grey eyes for a while before answering him so softly that the words almost got lost in the night the moment they’d left her. “No… you’re not.”

She clambered off him and rolled onto her back. He followed and snuggled against her, wrapped in her arms with his around her waist. To her relief there was no awkwardness. They’d simply returned to their state of being completely comfortable around each other, physically and emotionally. She pressed her face in the oiled hair, taking in the sweet, minty smell. They soon drifted off to sleep, Remy vaguely aware that they wouldn’t remember most of what had just transpired and feeling the unspoken promise between them that neither would ever bring up the things that they would.


End file.
